


Highly Irregular

by MaxWrite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blindfolds, Ice Play, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Wax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-09
Updated: 2009-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy never imagined the former Gryffindor Quidditch captain would ever be interested in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highly Irregular

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Weasley Fest](http://weasley_fest.livejournal.com) '09.

The door opened and Percy automatically stood up straight. His nose went a bit higher up into the air, but his eyes wandered down to the pair of red wine-filled glasses in his host's large hand, one sitting between the index and middle fingers, the other between the ring finger and pinkie. The stems dangled down below and made little clinking noises as they knocked together.

"You're early," said Oliver.

"Punctuality is a virtue."

"As stiff as ever, I see." Oliver extended his hand. "Take one."

Percy carefully removed a glass from between Oliver's fingers. "Thank you."

"Come on in." Oliver stepped aside for him. Percy nodded curtly and stepped inside, trying not to stare at him. Oliver had that same casually cool look about him that Percy remembered from school. His dark hair had that carelessly sexy, slightly messy ease that suggested he'd either spent no time at all on it or far too much time. Percy stepped passed him, into the flat, and heard him shut the door.

"It's probably not up to your standards, Weasley," said Oliver, "but it's home."

"You know, I'm far less uptight than you think. You should see my childhood home. It's complete chaos."

Oliver smiled. "I doubt any of that chaos had anything to do with you."

"Well, true, but – Oh, what's going on now?" Percy asked, jumping slightly as Oliver approached from behind and touched his shoulders.

"Relax. I'm taking your coat."

"I knew that." Percy shrugged his coat off. Once he was free of it, he sipped his wine and continued to survey the flat. It was small and candlelit and cosy looking.

Oliver hung Percy's coat, went to stand next to him and touched his back. Percy managed to keep himself from jumping this time, but he still tensed up a bit.

"Have a seat," Oliver said, gesturing toward the living room. "Dinner's going to be another half-hour or so, I think."

Percy watched him disappear into the kitchen. When Oliver was out of sight, Percy breathed deeply and touched a hand to his chest; his heart was pattering away at a disturbing rate. The former Gryffindor Quidditch captain, and current Keeper for Puddlemere United, was making him dinner, had lit candles for him. This was completely surreal.

Percy suddenly remembered that he'd been instructed to sit. He forced his legs to move and carry him across the room to the squashy-looking couch. He lowered himself into it and sank down a bit further than he'd expected.

"Dinner should be okay on its own for a while," said Oliver as he exited the kitchen. He smiled as he set eyes on Percy. Percy knew he must look awkward as hell and hastily feigned interest in a nearby vase.

"My aunt gave me that," said Oliver. "Flat-warming gift."

"Ah. I see." Percy sniffed. "Well, it's very nice."

"No, it's not," Oliver laughed. He took a seat next to Percy, sliding his arm along the backrest behind him. Oliver's weight caused Percy to tilt slightly to the right, his shoulder landing squarely in the little nook of Oliver's armpit. He looked up and found himself face-to-face with Oliver. He smiled awkwardly and lowered his gaze, fidgeting and holding his wine glass a little too tightly.

"The only reason that vase isn't hidden away in a closet is because she visited yesterday," Oliver went on. "My aunt, I mean. I made sure to leave it where she'd see it and forgot to stash it before you arrived."

"I see."

Oliver leaned even closer and said in a lower, more intimate tone, "I'd hate to think that you were thinking horrible things about my taste in home décor."

"I wouldn't," Percy said hastily. "I didn't."

Oliver fixed Percy with a sceptical and unwavering stare.

"Well, I may have wondered for a moment."

Oliver emitted a throaty chuckle. "Loosening up a bit, are you?"

Percy smiled, but almost immediately sat up a bit straighter at the suggestion that he seemed more relaxed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Huh. Perhaps I should've fixed you a stronger drink."

"No, no, the wine is fine. Wonderful, actually. Everything's wonderful. Really... wonderful." Percy looked into his eyes. "It just all seems so… er…"

"Wonderful?"

"I'm just a little unsure as to why I'm here."

Oliver canted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I wouldn't be a good influence on you."

Oliver grinned and nodded approvingly. "And he tells jokes. I'm impressed."

"I just never considered that you might... well, be aware of my existence. You never paid me any attention in school."

"Says who? I knew you were there. I just thought you were a bit stuck up, that's all."

"Oh. I see."

"You were always running around, on your way to one place or another, face so serious, shouldering your way through everyone, making sure we all knew how important you were."

Percy nodded at his lap. "Mm."

"Thought it was kinda cute, actually."

At that, Percy looked up at him again. "You... you did?"

"Sure. You had such a massive stick up your arse all the time. I found you... interesting."

"In a good way?"

"Yep."

Percy blinked at him. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It might've had something to do with my certainty that someone so uptight must secretly be kinky as hell." Oliver grinned and his brown eyes twinkled mischievously at Percy. Percy felt his cheeks flush and he looked away again, smiling nervously. Kinky as hell? How could anyone ever think such a thing about him? Everything he'd ever done in his life had been specifically designed to demonstrate that he was serious and focused and well-organised and ambitious and reliable. He hadn't factored in the possibility that someone might deduce that his private thoughts were in direct opposition to his outward behaviour.

He quite liked it, actually.

"Well, I never," he said, pretending to be offended, but only slightly.

"Did you notice me while we were in school?"

"It was difficult not to. Everyone was so obsessed with Quidditch, it was all anyone talked about. Everyone knew who you were. Not noticing you would've required real effort, wouldn't it?"

"What did you think of me?"

Percy met his eyes again. Their faces were so close and Percy was still snugly nestled against Oliver's solid body. Percy felt uncomfortable and tingly all over and too warm all of a sudden and Oliver smelled of something woody and fresh and slightly spicy. The scent made Percy feel light-headed and dreamy. He tried not to inhale too deeply.

"I thought," he slowly began, "that you were just another dumb jock."

Oliver grinned again. "Oh, really?"

"I thought you were far too obsessed with the game. It made you mental. You'd stalk the halls muttering to yourself. Just being near you was stressful. You were constant motion. You seemed chaotic and unpredictable, and yet so focused. You were... intense."

Percy stopped talking, took a breath and felt that breath quiver as he exhaled it. He'd surely said too much, but Oliver had asked what Percy had thought of him, so Percy had told him. Oliver, however, didn't look upset. He was watching Percy and his eyes were dark and suggestive. Percy looked away again.

"No offence," Percy said.

"None taken," Oliver replied, and his voice was soft and as suggestive as his gaze.

"You and I don't really belong together, you know."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh, come now, we're complete opposites. People like me and people like you don't end up together."

Oliver shook his head. "You think you know everything, don't you?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"You just need to learn to go with it."

"I'm sorry? 'Go with it'? What does that mean?"

"You're far too controlled. Give me that." Oliver took Percy's glass and leaned forward to set both it and his own down on the coffee table. He then stood and headed around a corner and out of sight.

Percy watched him go and wondered if he'd said something wrong. Well, even if he had, he was hardly going to feel sorry about it. He then considered the possibility that he was supposed to have followed Oliver. No, not so soon, he thought. Surely Oliver hadn't expected anything to happen before they'd even eaten. Percy was relieved to see Oliver striding back toward the couch seconds later.

He dropped back down next to Percy. "Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"That depends on what it is you've got behind your back."

Oliver smiled. "Ah. So, that's a no, then."

Percy hesitated. "No, I do. Yes, of course I do."

"No, you don't," Oliver laughed, smiling at him with something that looked to Percy like affection in his eyes.

"No, I do."

"It's all right, Weasley. Here, just let me put this on you."

"Whoa, whoa." Percy leaned away from Oliver as Oliver revealed what he'd been holding out of sight. It was a plain, white handkerchief. "Put it on me? What do you mean put it on me?"

"I want to blindfold you."

Percy's eyebrows went up. "I beg your pardon?"

"It'll be fun."

" _What_ will be fun?"

"Come on, let go for once in your life. I'm not going to do anything too weird."

"Oh, well then, as long as it isn't _too_ weird."

Oliver got up and stood before Percy. "Take your glasses off. Don't make me do it for you."

Percy gaped up at him. His eyes travelled from Oliver's arched eyebrow to his lopsided smile and then down to his thick index finger, which was pointed directly at him. Percy couldn't help but let his eyes wander a little further down to the curve of denim where Oliver's crotch pushed out against his jeans.

"Percy."

"What?" Percy quickly looked up at Oliver's face again.

Oliver waved his finger at Percy's shirt collar. "The collar. And the tie. Loosen them up a bit. Jeez, you're so buttoned up and perfectly pressed."

"Should I have shown up in my pyjamas?"

"Well, now there's an idea."

Percy shook his head and rolled his eyes, pretending to be thoroughly disgusted, though he couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Anyway, all of that needs to be undone," said Oliver as he shoved the handkerchief into his pocket and bent over to begin loosening Percy's clothes. Percy froze.

"This is rather bold of you," he said.

"Shush."

"I should swat your hands away."

"Why don't you, then?"

Percy rolled his eyes again, trying to relax and pretend that this wasn't completely freaking him out. He really should have swatted Oliver's hands away, but he couldn't. He didn't want to. How many times had he fantasised about this person in school? How many times had he pictured the two of them in a situation much like this one? Too many to count.

Oliver smiled at him as he pulled Percy's tie loose, lifted it off and set it aside. He started on the shirt buttons next. Percy was pointedly not looking at him.

"You have no idea how hot you are, do you?" Oliver murmured.

This made Percy look at him again, a look of clear shock on his face. "What?"

"You are. You're all tall and willowy and... kinda delicate-like."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I mean that in a good way. And your eyelashes–"

"– are invisible. That's what happens with ginger hair."

"No, they're long," Oliver murmured. "And beautiful." Oliver had unfastened a couple of Percy's buttons and was working on a third. He got it out of its hole and gently pushed the shirt open as wide as it would go. He then straightened up and surveyed his work, eyes lingering on the flat, smooth, freckled skin he'd revealed. Percy watched him, feeling his body begin to respond to all this new attention and making him have to shift a bit in his seat. Part of him wanted to cover up and cross his legs and his arms and have a pleasant conversation over dinner and wine, sitting at the opposite end of the table from Oliver, where Oliver couldn't get at his clothes. On the other hand, he wanted Oliver to continue undressing him, appreciating his body and making it come alive.

"Should I not have done that?" Oliver asked.

"No, you shouldn't have."

Oliver's mouth curled upward at one corner. "I apologise. How do you feel?"

Percy hesitated, wasn't sure how to answer. He shifted a bit more, laying an arm over his groin. "Erm… exposed, I suppose."

"In a bad way?"

"Is there any other way?"

Oliver chuckled and nodded. "Yes." He cocked his head. "You don't feel completely horrible, do you? If you did, you'd cover up, or you'd have slapped me soon as touched you."

Well, yes, obviously. But Percy wasn't about to tell him he was right.

"It's rather warm in here," he said in a voice much softer than normal. "With all the candles, I mean."

"Too warm?"

Percy nodded. "But they're nice. The candles. I like them."

"Well, you know what that means." Oliver bent over and put his big hands to Percy's shirt again. He proceeded to unfasten the remaining buttons. "Candles stay. Shirt goes."

"I... I can't believe you're doing this," Percy stammered. He felt short of breath.

Oliver chuckled again. "I can't believe you're _letting_ me. You've changed, Weasley. Since we were in school."

Percy wondered if he would have allowed something like this to happen back then. He was kind of hoping he would have, but had a feeling the opposite was true.

"And how do you know that?" he asked. "You don't really know what I was like back then."

"Ah, come on. You didn't have any sex in school, did you?"

"That's none of your business," Percy said seriously.

"Sorry. My bad."

Oliver's hands touched Percy's shoulders and gently pushed the shirt off them. Percy took a shaky breath. He could feel the roughness of Oliver's hands, the calluses, against his skin. He imagined those hands gripping the handle of a broom as his muscular thighs brought his broom's tail around to knock a Quaffle away from his goal posts.

Oliver's hands fell away from Percy's arms, leaving the shirt sitting just at his elbows. He braced himself with one hand on Percy's armrest and seemed to be studying Percy's eyes.

"This is moving too fast for you, isn't it?"

"You're asking me _now_? Where were you three minutes ago?"

"Well, had to see if you'd let me get you half naked, didn't I?"

"We haven't even eaten yet."

Oliver stood up straight. "Yeah. But it's not like we just met. It took us years to get here."

"True."

"Your glasses. Take them off."

"I'm not really comfortable with that. I really do have the worst eyesight –"

"Weasley," said Oliver, pulling the handkerchief from his pocket and holding it before Percy's face. "You won't be able to see, anyway."

Percy took a deep, calming breath. "This is… highly irregular."

"I imagine you could use a little irregularity in your life. Come on, let's get those off you." Oliver reached out again, his hands this time going for Percy's face. He was hesitant this time, as well he should be. This was Percy's _face_ he was reaching for. All Percy wanted to do was pull away. No one touched his glasses. No one. But he was already almost shirtless and Oliver was so broad-shouldered and sexy and completely unlike anyone Percy had thought he'd ever get the chance to be intimate with.

Percy closed his eyes and turned his face up ever so slightly. Oliver had the go-ahead.

Oliver slipped Percy's glasses off his face and Percy open his eyes again. He blinked rapidly and glanced around the room. Everything was a complete blur.

"You know, we may not need that handkerchief after all," he said, squinting.

"That bad, huh?" Oliver folded the handkerchief to an appropriate size and held it up with both hands. "Are you okay with this?"

Percy took a breath. "What the hell," he said with a shrug. "You only live once, right?"

"You're not going to ask what I'm going to do?"

"Will you tell me?"

"Nope."

"Well, then… off we go." Percy closed his eyes and turned his face up again.

Percy heard Oliver set his glasses down on the coffee table. A moment later he felt the silky handkerchief being laid over his eyes. Percy felt immediately uneasy, although no longer having to see how blurry everything was without his glasses was a bit of a relief.

Oliver's hands seemed to linger at the back of Percy's head. Percy was certain he had finished securing the handkerchief, but his fingers were now lightly scratching at the nape of Percy's neck.

"Too tight?" asked Oliver and Percy felt his wine-scented breath on his face. Percy instinctively turned his face up just a little more as though blindly searching for Oliver's mouth.

"No."

"Stand up. Here, give me your hands."

Percy decided to pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, but left it hanging open. He raised his hands and Oliver took them and helped him to his feet.

"And this exercise is supposed to…?" Percy asked.

"Help you learn to relax," said Oliver as he led Percy through the living room and around a corner.

"Well, so far, it isn't working."

"Just lie down, Weasley," laughed Oliver.

"Lie down?" Percy stopped moving. "Are we in your bedroom?"

"Yes."

Percy raised his eyebrows again.

"I'm not going to do anything untoward."

"You've already tried to undress me."

"With you, taking off your glasses counts as undressing. Just trust me and lie down." Oliver guided Percy to his bed and got him horizontal, on his back, head on the pillow. He arranged Percy's shirt so that it lay wide open, Percy's chest and stomach completely exposed. Oliver then took his hands off Percy and there was silence for a long moment in which Percy could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heart. He wondered what Oliver was doing. Percy got the impression Oliver was staring at him.

"Oliver?"

Oliver cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm here. Right. Be right back."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Kitchen," Oliver called. "Sit tight."

Percy sighed. He was starting to feel a bit silly. He heard Oliver checking the meal in the kitchen, but after that, nothing. Percy was about to remove his blindfold and put a stop to this ridiculousness, but then he heard soft footsteps approaching.

"Sorry about that," said Oliver. "Had to grab a few things."

"Okay."

Percy felt the bed shake as Oliver took a seat next to him. "Now, I want you to tell me what this is."

"Tell you what what is?" But Percy only needed to wait a moment to find out what, because a second later he felt something ice-cold on his chest. He flinched and gasped, and then the object was removed. "What _was_ that?" he demanded.

"You tell me."

Percy hesitated, breathing a bit harder, and finally said, "Ice. It must've been."

"Very good. Did you hate it?"

"It wasn't the most pleasant thing I've ever felt."

"I'm going to do it again–"

"Oh, joy."

"–and I want you tell me how it feels."

"I can tell you that right now."

"Shush."

Percy felt the ice again, at the edge of his left nipple, and he flinched, instinctively sucking his chest in, trying to pull away from the offending sensation. As Oliver circled the nipple with the ice, Percy's breathing became erratic and he felt his nipple hardening.

"How do you feel?" asked Oliver.

Percy swallowed hard. "It's… uh… cold."

Oliver smiled. "I know that."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?"

"Is it a good cold or a bad cold?"

"It's…" Percy fidgeted. "It's… not completely horrible."

"Well, that's something, at least."

Percy felt the ice move across his chest, the coldness slicing slowly from one nipple to the other, leaving a wet trail that dipped down into the concave hollow between them and then up onto the slight rise of his small breast. The ice reached his other nipple and to Percy's great displeasure he couldn't stop himself from emitting a soft moan. His annoyance quickly dissolved, however, as the ice began to give his right nipple the same treatment as the left. He shuddered away from the ice at first, but that quickly changed as all his attention focused on the way the sensitive skin tingled and hardened.

"As amusing as all this is," said Percy, "I fail to see how this is supposed to help me relax."

Oliver set the ice cube aside. "It's supposed to help you learn to give up a little control."

"And why should I want to do that?"

"It can be fun to lose control."

Percy frowned. "No, it can't… Wait, what're you doing?" Percy could feel Oliver moving around next to him.

"Preparing the next item."

Percy was wondering what could possibly be next, but his nipples distracted him. They were just begging for attention. He reached up and touched one, lightly prodding it, and then took it between thumb and forefinger and just felt it, exploring the tiny wrinkled terrain. He brought his other hand up to feel the other one, giving them both a pinch. He wondered if his blooming erection was noticeable.

The bed shook again and Percy guessed that Oliver had turned back to him with the next item, but when the shaking stopped, there was silence. Oliver seemed to have frozen. He was watching Percy again. Percy wondered if he should stop touching himself.

"Good? Bad? Indifferent?" asked Oliver.

"Uh… good, I think," Percy replied softly. "I don't think they've ever been this hard before." He arched a bit, pushing his chest up into his own touch. He rolled each nipple between his fingers, lightly at first and then increasing the pressure. He let out a soft, involuntary little moan, the sound of which snapped him back to reality and made him realise that he was putting on quite a show. He quickly lowered his hands.

"Sorry," he said.

"Please, don't apologise," Oliver insisted, his voice soft and low. "I think I enjoyed that as much as you did. Okay, ready for the next thing? Here it comes."

Percy braced himself. A few seconds later, something landed on his chest, between his breasts. It was very hot. He flinched and sucked air in through his teeth. It was a liquid; he could feel it spreading out a bit as his chest rose and fell. Then the heat began to dissipate and another drop landed, this time closer to one of his nipples, the same sudden burst of heat making Percy tense up and this time even grunt a bit. Percy squirmed. He wasn't sure that he was enjoying this so much, not at the very moment the substance hit his skin and the pain was at its worst, but as it cooled, the sensation became not entirely unpleasant.

"How's that?" asked Oliver.

"Do it again," Percy replied softly.

"Well, someone's getting into this, I see."

"Don't gloat," Percy warned.

Another droplet of the hot liquid hit Percy's chest. The heat wasn't quite as offending this time, Percy's increasing arousal making his skin respond differently to it. He then felt his shirt being pulled open even more on the side Oliver sat on, exposing his shoulder. He found himself turning his face away, offering Oliver more room for whatever he might want to do.

Percy felt Oliver's hand on his neck, felt his fingers glide lightly along his freckled collarbone. The light touch tickled in a pleasant way against Percy's sensitive skin and Percy shuddered, letting out a quivering breath. The next thing he felt was Oliver's mouth on his collarbone. Percy gasped and brought a hand up to grip Oliver's hair.

"If you tell anyone about this…" Percy breathed.

Oliver chuckled against his skin. "Is that a threat?"

"Yes."

Oliver pressed his mouth into the hollow just above the collarbone and Percy felt Oliver's deep laugh vibrate inside his throat.

"What are you so afraid of, Weasley?"

"Oh, I don't know," Percy said dryly. "Just the thought of anyone finding out you had me nearly out of my clothes and in your bed before we'd even had salads."

"Ah, so you're afraid everyone's going to find out what a wanton sex fiend you are."

"I am not – Oh, oh yes," Percy moaned as Oliver tweaked one of his nipples.

"Oh, but I think you are."

"Maybe it's because of you," Percy suggested in a low voice. The words had just come out, his arousal apparently playing havoc with his mental filter. He felt Oliver stop and knew Oliver was staring at him, probably with a look of impressed surprise on his face. Percy immediately cleared his throat and proceeded to blush profusely.

Percy felt Oliver pull away and sit up again. "You know," Oliver said, "if you'd allow yourself a little more fun every now and again, you could probably avoid such embarrassing outbursts."

"It's just the wine talking."

"Mm-hm. Here, have some more of this."

Percy felt another drop of the hot liquid on his collarbone, felt it being poured all along it.

"Know what it is?" asked Oliver.

"Candle wax," Percy replied breathlessly.

"That's right." Oliver touched Percy again, feeling the smooth wax that had hardened on his skin, tracing a wax trail down into the hollow below Percy's Adam's apple. Percy then felt Oliver's fingertips glide down the side of his torso, along his ribs, and Percy arched into the touch.

"Do you like it?" Oliver asked. "The wax."

Percy took a deep, shaky breath. "It's… very different."

"But do you like it?"

"You can see that I like it. You just want me to say it out loud."

"It's hard for you to admit that, isn't it?"

"It's not the kind of thing I'd like people to know about."

Percy heard Oliver set the candle down on the bedside table and then felt him stretch out next to him. Oliver nuzzled at his cheek and murmured, "No one here but us."

"True… Um, has that ice melted yet?"

"Not completely."

Percy didn't need to say anything more. He felt the bed shake as Oliver retrieved the cube from wherever it was. Oliver then settled next to him again and a moment later Percy felt the ice-cold wetness touch his skin, just underneath his left nipple. He didn't flinch at all this time and immediately began squirming as Oliver moved the ice around, sliding it down to Percy's belly, over his naval, along the trail of ginger hair that led down into Percy's trousers. He stopped at the waistband, moved along it and then went back up Percy's body, all the while blowing softly on the wet trail he was leaving behind.

"You know, if we keep this up, we may not get to the actual food part of this date," Percy said.

"Do you really care right now?"

Percy opened his mouth to answer, but could only moan as Oliver's tongue, which was oddly cold, licked across his nipple. He felt the ice cube again a second later and knew Oliver had placed it inside his mouth. "Maybe a little," he finally said.

"I can feed you. Just like this…" And holding the ice cube between his teeth, Oliver slid it up from Percy's chest, over his collarbone, up his neck and over his chin and kissed him, dropping the ice into his mouth. They passed it back and forth, first Percy's tongue pushing up into Oliver's mouth and then Oliver passing it back. They went on like this until the ice was gone, and then Oliver laid his hand on Percy's stomach and Percy, in a bold move, took Oliver's hand and moved it down between his legs.

Oliver stopped kissing Percy and pulled the blindfold up and off with his free hand. Percy blinked up at him and found Oliver's ruggedly handsome face smiling lazily down at him. Percy glanced down to where his own hand was making Oliver's hand cup his hardness. Their eyes met again and Percy smiled sheepishly.

"I don't know how that happened," he said.

"Oh, I bet you don't," said Oliver as he gave Percy a little squeeze.

Percy pushed up into his hand. "Would you like to play with it?" he whispered. The reaction to these words was immediate; Oliver's eyes grew darker and he emitted something like a low growl.

"Been wanting to play with you since 5th year, Weasley."

Percy stared at him in surprise. "R-really?"

"Oh, yeah." Oliver got up on his knees and quickly pulled off his shirt, revealing his firm, well-defined chest, stomach and arms. Percy stared up at him for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Was he really going to do this? On a first date? _Before_ they'd eaten?

Oliver laid his hand on Percy's bulging groin again and gently rubbed. Percy watched his other hand find his own bulge and fondle it as well.

Yes. Percy was definitely going to do this.

Percy sat up and his hands went straight to Oliver's jeans where they began frantically pulling at the button. Oliver stood tall on his knees and watched, his hips thrust forward a bit.

"Thought we couldn't get down to business until after dinner," said Oliver.

Percy glanced up at him and, though Oliver's face was a bit blurry to him, Percy could clearly see the little smirk on his face. Percy returned the smile, but then went right back to the task at hand.

"Like you said, it took us years to get here," said Percy. "All those dinners in the Great Hall; those count, don't they?"

Oliver's firm belly shook as he laughed. "Funny _and_ a creative problem solver," he said, and he reached out and stroked Percy's hair. "You're quite a catch, aren't you?"

Percy felt breathless and shaky and uncertain and like the world had been turned upside down. Oliver Wood genuinely liked him, thought he was funny, and the attention was instilling Percy with a confidence that was making him do crazy things. He was no virgin, but he also wasn't the sort to go diving into his date's pants so early on in the evening.

So when he got Oliver's dick out, got its warm weight in his hand and its little slit was glistening at him, he shocked even himself when he stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.

He heard Oliver gasp. "Fucking hell, Weasley. Damn, I guess you were hungry."

Percy could only grunt in response as he began sucking, bobbing his head and working his lips and tongue around Oliver's thick length. His hands went to his own waistband, quickly unfastened his trousers and pulled out his cock. He shuddered as he began to stroke himself in time with his sucking.

"Don't make yourself come," Oliver murmured. "Save that for me."

Percy pulled Oliver out of his mouth and looked up at him. He flicked his tongue around the head a bit, putting on a show and feeling so blatantly sexual that he almost didn't feel like himself at all.

He finally took his mouth off Oliver completely and laid back on his elbows, looking up at him with smouldering eyes and spread his legs, his trousers wide open and displaying his cock. "Touch me," he said in the softest, shakiest voice. Oliver obeyed, gently caressed his cock and began stroking it.

"God, you're hot," Oliver said. He touched himself with his other hand, slowly rubbed up and down his length. Percy's eyes went right down to watch that. Oliver's body looked even bigger and broader from this position, towering over Percy like this. His muscles tensed as he began rubbing himself faster, matching the speed of the hand that was on Percy.

"No one's ever... called me that before," Percy panted.

"What, hot? I find that hard to believe. Gorgeous thing like you."

A wave of pleasure arced through Percy's body at those words. His hands moved up to tweak his own nipples again, and then he remembered the candle. He glanced over at the bedside table where the thick, cylindrical candle still had a low flame flickering in an impressive pool of melted wax. Percy's skin tingled at the very thought of feeling that burn again.

"You want that again?" asked Oliver in a husky voice. "I can do that for you if you want."

But Percy didn't want Oliver to stop doing anything he was currently doing. Percy reached over and picked up the candle himself. He looked up into Oliver's eyes again, gave him a little smile and then closed his eyes, arched his neck and poured hot wax down his front, starting up at his neck and making his way down the centre of his chest to his belly button.

As soon as the wax touched his skin, he sucked in a sharp breath and tensed up all over. But he didn't flinch away from the heat. Instead he arched up into the burning touch of the liquid. Percy stayed that way for several seconds after the wax had run out, arched off the bed savouring the burn, writhing unabashedly until the sensation began to die and his climax began to build.

Oliver stroked them both faster as he watched. "Fucking hell, Weasley, never thought you had all this in you," he groaned, his voice quivering. "Gonna come."

"Me too," Percy whispered. He set the candle down again, blindly reaching over to the bedside table, and then his left hand came right back and joined the right one in tweaking his nipples again. Now he understood; Oliver had said earlier that there was more than one way to feel exposed, more than just the bad way. Percy got it now, lying there with his legs spread around Oliver, bare from chest all the way down to his crotch, fondling himself and being fondled, moaning and panting and generally losing control. Percy felt completely exposed and he'd never felt so wonderful in his life.

He came, and Oliver came too, and he felt both their liquid splattering across his belly and he loved it. Then Oliver fell down upon him, latched onto his mouth with his own and they rutted against each other with uncontrolled passion. Percy felt fingers in his hair and then teeth on his neck, heard Oliver groaning hard, felt that each movement of Oliver's hips was some kind of command to be obeyed, as though Oliver was wordlessly egging Percy on, encouraging this new-found abandon. Percy did obey, let the pleasure direct him, didn't hold back any words or sounds or movements. He dug his nails into Oliver's back and hung on tight for the ride.

Soon he felt all of Oliver's muscles relaxing and then had to let him go as he slid off Percy. Oliver fell onto his back at Percy's side and when they looked at each other, they gave each other dopey, satisfied grins.

"Not to rub it in or anything," said Oliver, "but you do seem more relaxed."

"Well… perhaps you were right, then," Percy admitted.

Oliver reached over and stroked a gentle line down Percy's long nose with the back of his index finger. Percy wrinkled his nose and looked away sheepishly.

"I have to admit," said Oliver as he turned away and reached for his wand on the bedside table, "this is a side of you I never thought I'd see, Weasley."

"I'll bet it is. This is so unlike me. I hope you don't think any less of me. I don't normally do this sort of thing on a first date. Oh, thank you," Percy added as Oliver spelled all the come and dried candle wax off of him.

"You're welcome. But I wasn't talking about what we just did together."

Percy frowned at him. "What did you mean, then?"

Oliver sat up and cleaned himself up too. "I meant you admitting someone else was right. Never saw you do that before." He looked over at Percy. "Any chance I can get that in writing?"

Percy arched an eyebrow at him.

"Still no sense of humour about yourself, I see," Oliver said with a smirk.

"Oh. So, it's like that, then, is it?" With a smirk of his own, Percy sat up and began buttoning his clothes.

"Ah, come on, Weasley, I was just joking."

"No, no," Percy said airily as he stood. "Dinner should be ready by now anyway, shouldn't it?"

"The hell with dinner. I'll be ready to go again in... right now."

Percy strolled lazily toward the door. "Well," he said with a heavy sigh that suggested he was being put upon, and he glanced back at Oliver. "I might be persuaded again later on. If you behave." At that, he gave Oliver a coy smile and slipped out of the room.

END


End file.
